


the crazy straw called life

by independentalto



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, family au, philinda and daisy are a family and that's on that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:14:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25103011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/independentalto/pseuds/independentalto
Summary: Daisy's sudden Red Bull consumption was bound to get her parents' attention sooner or later.Luckily, Phil and Mel are always there to lend a hand.
Relationships: Phil Coulson & Melinda May & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson/Melinda May
Comments: 23
Kudos: 81





	the crazy straw called life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agentmmayy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentmmayy/gifts).



> For agentmmayy, who prompted me on tumblr with "How much Red Bull have you drank today?" Thanks for the prompt! :)

"Mel, can you put more Red Bull on the Costco list?" Phil called, sighing as his forage into the fridge came up empty. Something sluggish had been tugging at his brain all morning, and a Red Bull sounded just like the trick to kick it into gear. 

That was, if there'd been any left in the house. "Didn't you buy some when we went last week?" Melinda asked, crouching beside him so both of them could peer into the fridge. Frowning, she shifted aside containers of leftovers and various vegetables -- she and Daisy were both on a salad kick -- only to find a complete lack of said Red Bull. "Phil, that was a bulk pack."

"I know," Phil said hazily, trying to stifle a yawn. He really hoped there was some Yerba Mate left in the house somewhere. "We should...we should probably ask Daisy about it." Having a college-aged daughter home for the first time this summer meant a few things: an increased food budget, random people stopping by their house all hours of the day and a constant light emitting from Daisy's bedroom. 

It could've been worse, Melinda mused. She had yet to see her daughter do the cup walk of shame, and contrary to the stereotypes, she occasionally emerged from her room to interact with her parents in a non-confrontational manner. Which made the sudden Red Bull consumption all the more concerning. What was Daisy up to that required her to consume roughly a frat party's worth of Red Bull in one sitting?

"Daisy?" she called, Phil trailing behind her with a slightly zombie-like shuffle. When there was no response, Melinda checked her watch, sighing. It was barely noon -- Daisy wouldn't be up for at  _ least _ another hour; Melinda'd watched her desk light finally turn off when she'd gotten up that morning for her tai chi session. 

There was the sound of tinkling to her left, and she turned to find that Phil had abandoned course somewhere during her small thought tangent to reenter the kitchen, this time rummaging through their pantry. She had to suppress a smile when he held up a can of Yerba Mate tea with a small, sleepy 'A-ha!', cracking it open and taking a large sip. "Ah, caffeine," he said almost dreamily. Melinda rolled her eyes; truly, her first mistake had been trying to wean her husband off of coffee two weeks ago to begin with. "Sorry, Mel, you were saying?" 

"I was  _ going _ to say we could probably get another pack from Costco, and you could get a latte along the way," she said, and Phil's eyes lit up in excitement. "But since you're already drinking the Yerba Mate..." 

"No, please, we can go get the coffee," he said almost immediately. "I can put the tea in the fridge, you can drink it later, you can drink it now if you want to, just please let us go get the coffee,  _ pleeeeeeeeeeeease _ \--" 

Melinda sighed and took the can from him, sipping at it. "I've created a monster." 

* * *

One large iced latte, two twelve packs of Red Bull and countless free samples later, Melinda had just finished putting the last of their unnecessary groceries away (she didn't know why Phil insisted on buying half the things they sampled, really) when Daisy emerged from her bedroom, looking entirely too awake for someone who had supposedly crashed sometime during the early morning. 

In fact, she mused as she examined her daughter's jerky movements, she would put good money on the idea that Daisy hadn't crashed at all. 

"Daisy?" she asked, and Daisy spun around, limbs practically vibrating. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but..."

"Oh my god." Sometimes, Melinda considered herself the blunter of the two of them, but other days Phil was a force to be reckoned with. "You look awful," Phil deadpanned, "how much Red Bull have you drank today?" 

Daisy winced, managing to look sheepish. "How much Red Bull have I drank 'today' as in after midnight of today's date, or how much Red Bull have I drank since the last time I went through a full sleep cycle?" 

Melinda resisted the urge to throw her hands in the air in exasperation. This -- this was the problem with raising two caffeine fiends in this house. One was bound to pass on their habits to the other. Although it was disappointing Daisy'd gone straight from multiple sodas to multiple Red Bulls. "Why is there a difference, honey?" 

"Weeeeeellll..." Daisy sucked in a breath. " _ Technically _ , after midnight today, I've had about 4 Red Bulls. I've, uh...had 12 since the last time I've slept?" 

_ "You had the whole twelve-pack?" _ While they were both echoing the same words, their sentiments were entirely different -- Phil's more slightly awed, Melinda's trending towards horrified. "Phil," she said to him through gritted teeth. "We are  _ not _ supposed to be encouraging this behavior in our daughter." 

"Right," Phil coughed, trying for a slightly sterner tone.  _ “You had the whole twelve-pack?" _

Daisy just levelled an eyebrow at him. "Not as intimidating when you have to do it a second time, Dad," she quipped lightly. "So, uh...you guys didn't happen to get any more Red Bull while you were at Costco, did you?"

"Doesn't matter if we did, you are  _ not _ having more until you've fixed your sleeping schedule, Daisy May." Hadn't Daisy been taught about the dangers of caffeinated beverages in high school? Had she slept through that lecture? Oh, god. Was this an indicator of her caffeine consumption in college? How much Red Bull was she burning through regularly, exactly? 

"Bu --" 

"No buts." Daisy sighed. "You're a grown adult. I shouldn't have to tell you it's  _ bad _ for you, honey." Melinda glanced over at Phil, who was draining his iced latte at an alarming rate. "I usually save those kinds of things for your father." 

The slurping stopped. "Hey!" 

"Sorry, honey." Daisy's shoulders had slumped, and she leaned against the counter, fingers drumming against its surface. Melinda shut the fridge and approached the counter, careful not to spook her daughter. "Is there a reason you were drinking so many, hon? I know you've been away at college, but this isn't like you." 

The drumming turned to squeezing, Daisy's hands forming fists before unclenching in a staccato rhythm. Melinda's heart squeezed in tandem with it, wondering what had stressed her daughter out so much that she'd felt the need to abandon sleep. "Grades are coming out soon," Daisy admitted. "I don't know when they're coming out, but some people have already said they've gotten theirs, and I just...I don't want to miss it,"

"I'm sure you did fine," Phil said, abandoning his beloved latte to stand next to them. "You've always done fine, Daisy. And you weren't this worried when your winter grades came out. Why's this one different?" 

"Because if last semester had been bad, I could've chalked it up to first semester jitters, or adjusting to college," Daisy explained, her hands now simply just shaking. "But now there's no excuse. If I do badly, it's just because I did badly. And you and mom sunk so much money into this year and it's all going to go to waste if my grades don't measure up..." Throughout her explanation, Daisy's breaths had become more and more frequent, and soon she was hyperventilating, gripping the counter for support. 

"Daisy, look at me." Melinda tilted her daughter's chin up gently, forcing her to look her in the eyes. "Look at me. Look at me and  _ breathe _ . One, two, three, hold, two, three, out, two, three. Again. In, two, three, hold, two, three, out, two, three. Again." 

While Melinda did her best to go through the breathing exercises, Phil retrieved a glass from the cabinet, filling it with water from the fridge before sticking a crazy straw in it and meandering back over to them. The crazy straws had always been a coping go-to whenever Daisy'd had similar outbreaks of nervousness in the past, forcing her to not only hydrate but pace her actions. 

How had they not noticed Daisy's nervousness? Had they become such complacent parents in the two semesters they'd had an empty house? And when had they become the untouchable parents, unable to communicate with their daughter? Phil was so sure they'd taken all the rights steps in raising Daisy -- but now, as he watched Melinda wipe the tears from Daisy's cheeks and gather her into a tight hug, he couldn't help but feel like he'd missed a step somewhere along the way. 

He'd never considered himself or Melinda particularly stringent or expecting of Daisy's grades -- a little strict, perhaps, if she brought home too bad of a grade without explanation -- but they'd never scolded her for bringing home anything less than a certain threshold. As long as she'd done her best, they liked to tell her. As long as she'd done her best. Had they somehow mutated the equation so that her best had to be  _ the _ best? 

"Have some water, Dais." He made sure to hold the glass steady, Daisy grabbing onto the straw with both hands before greedily sucking at the cold liquid. Right. Putting nothing but Red Bull into your system tended to do that to you. "I...I hope you know your mother and I will be nothing but proud of you however your grades turn out, honey." 

Several seconds passed as Daisy drank, the straw making an empty sound as it sucked in air. "But what if they turn out badly?"

"Did you try your best?" Melinda asked quietly. Daisy nodded. "What have we always said about your schoolwork?"

"That it's fine as long as I try my best," the brunette responded, sipping once more at the refilled glass Phil offered her. "I just don't want you guys to be  _ disappointed _ in me." 

"We could never be," Phil said, setting the glass aside and drawing Daisy into a hug. He'd missed this while she'd been away at school; Daisy tended to give solid, secure hugs, arms wrapping all the way around for a proper squeeze. "You're our daughter. No matter what happens, you'll always be the best thing we could ever ask for." A touch to his back signalled that Melinda had joined the hug, and for a minute, the family of three simply stood there, basking in the comfort of each others' presences. 

It wasn't long before Daisy broke the mood, however. "So you're saying if I murdered someone, I'd still be the best thing you'd ever had?" 

"I'm not saying that," Melinda said gruffly, though the amusement in her voice was clear. "You murder someone, I'm disowning you." 

"Sorry, but I'm with your mother on that one," Daisy gasped, and the three of them drew apart, laughing. "Look, honey, you might have murdered someone, but you've never seen your mother when she's been wronged." He leaned in, making sure his whisper was audible. "There's a reason you never found out about the 27 bodies she's got buried in the backyard." 

Even though Melinda swatted him in the arm, the laughter that erupted from Daisy was still a balm to Phil's ears, turning quickly into a bone-cracking yawn. "When was the last time you slept?" Melinda asked, not unkindly. 

Daisy blinked blearily, trying to do the mental math now that it was no longer being fueled (mostly) by Red Bull and anxiety. "Uh...if I cleared out the twelve-pack, and I had six Red Bulls a day...two days ago? Maybe?" 

"Alright, here's how it's going to go," Melinda handed Daisy the glass of water. "You're going to go have a couple more glasses of water, because heaven knows how much water you've lost. I'm going to call your aunt Maria and have  _ her _ keep an eye out for your grades. If they haven't come out in the next 48 hours, I'm going to have her call the university and threaten them. Your father's going to shut off the internet router --" Daisy's eyes went wide at the prospect of no internet. "--and then the three of us are going to watch the most boring movie on Earth in our room." 

Phil groaned. "You don't mean --"

Melinda turned a steely eye towards him. He  _ knew _ he was going to regret the buried bodies remark. "Oh yes, I mean. You  _ really _ shouldn't have shown me  _ Washing Machine -- The Movie _ as a joke, Phil.”

* * *

Daisy barely made it ten minutes into the film before her head began to droop, eyes sliding shut as she drifted headfirst into Melinda's lap. Melinda, to her credit, simply shifted so that Daisy wouldn't awake with a crick in her neck and stoically continued watching the movie. 

"Me, too, hon," Phil muttered. "Me, too." He reached over and shut the TV off, relief flickering across both of their faces. "I hate that we missed this." 

"We're not superhuman," Melinda said, "and we can't catch every bout of anxiety she has anymore, Phil. She's in college now." A hand absentmindedly reached to stroke Daisy's hair. "I'm just glad we were able to catch this one." Her voice was quieter. "Before she normalized not sleeping as a solution for her nervousness." 

Phil nodded, tucking a lock of hair back behind Daisy's hair. "You're right. I'm glad we could at least do that." Daisy let out a soft snore, and the sound was so sudden, so jarring, that both of them couldn't help but laugh. "Although now it looks like we might be stuck here for a while." 

Melinda's answering smile was beautiful. "Nowhere else I'd rather be, though." 

**Author's Note:**

> There truly is such a thing as ["Washing Machine -- the Movie"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4yuxV75pT6E). It's about an hour long and is literally a wash cycle set to an original soundtrack. 
> 
> If you'd like to throw me a prompt, the masterlist is [here](https://justanalto.tumblr.com/post/622842304685834240/300-prompts), and you can send me an ask [here](justanalto.tumblr.com/ask)!


End file.
